


Nadalir'la

by what_am_i_even_doing_tho



Series: Warming Up and Cooling Down [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Heat Stroke, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24785233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_am_i_even_doing_tho/pseuds/what_am_i_even_doing_tho
Summary: When things start to warm up and Corin’s intolerance for the heat makes itself known, Din must race against the clock to get his husband the help he needs.(No spoilers!)
Relationships: Baby Yoda & Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret) & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: Warming Up and Cooling Down [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792675
Comments: 20
Kudos: 109





	Nadalir'la

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is. After over a month of work, it’s finally finished. Blood, sweat, and tears have gone into this series, and I’m proud of myself for sticking it out and completing it. I have put so much effort into this thing that it’s not even funny, and while I did really enjoy writing it, I’m happy that it’s done.
> 
> This will be a two-part series. Part One (what you’re about to read) is the story, and Part Two is a smutty add-on with some resolution. Both parts combined make for the longest fic I have ever written, standing at about 15k words. I’m aiming to post Part Two, which has already been completed, in a week, but my self-control is terrible. I wouldn’t be surprised if I only lasted a couple days before giving in and posting it, to be honest.
> 
> I must broadcast a massive thank you to everyone on the discord server who read my updates, encouraged me, and helped me out. I most certainly would not have gotten through this without you. I don’t care if all you did was say, “looks great.” Every ounce of support I have received has fueled me to write, and I could never thank you enough for how much you all have helped me.
> 
> This fic originated from my need to project my difficulties with heat onto Corin. This is definitely not 100% medically accurate, but I wrote from what experience I have, and I researched the fuck out of the topic. Whatever inaccuracies are due to my own laziness, or for the sake of the story.
> 
> (Translations are in the end notes.)

Corin groaned when he saw their next destination looming forebodingly outside the viewport of the Crest. Another kriffing desert planet. That was just his luck. They had taken on some heavy damage shortly after dropping off the latest bounty, and the closest planet just had to be Corin’s least favorite kind. Maker, why couldn’t it have been a lovely, snowy, cold planet? Din, who had heard Corin’s noise of distaste, swiveled around in the chair to look at his husband.

“I know, I know,” He said in a placating tone. “I’m sorry, Corin, but we don’t have much of a choice. We can try to head to a cooler planet after we get the Crest fixed up, okay?” It wasn’t okay, but Corin didn’t exactly feel comfortable disclosing that bit of information, so he just sighed and nodded. He’d managed before; he’d be okay.

Corin sat back in his chair, listening absently as Din described the planet below. He wasn’t at all paying attention to the words being spoken, just focusing on the soothing sound of his Mandalorian’s voice. Corin knew that he needed to stay calm and not panic if he was going to get through this, especially considering that he didn’t want Din to be privy to his problem.

A jolt of shame shot through him at the thought of keeping Din in the dark. Din was his husband, and Corin knew that it would be okay to talk about this. He knew that, and yet he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything. A memory of his father and uncle flashed before his eyes; raised voices, wild gestures, thinly veiled threats. He shivered and subconsciously hunched over in his seat. No, it would be best if this stayed a secret. 

While lost in his thoughts, Corin hadn’t noticed that Din was trying to get his attention. A hand on his shoulder finally snapped him out of it, and he flinched away from the contact. When he realized that it was just Din, he sighed and relaxed. Din, however, had a stiff set to his shoulders, and the helmet was tilted in what Corin recognized as concern. The Mandalorian’s voice was cautious when he spoke, as if he were speaking to a frightened animal, and Corin cringed mentally.

“Are you alright, ner kar’ta?” He asked gently. 

Corin nodded and tried for a reassuring smile, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

Din made a soft, skeptical noise, but before he could press the matter, lights started flashing in the cockpit, and an ominous blaring drowned out all other noises. Quick as a flash, Din swiveled back around to assess the situation. A string of curses in Mando’a spoken too swiftly to comprehend flowed out, and Corin felt unease creep up his spine. A question died on his lips when the ship started to shake violently.

Frantically adjusting the controls, Din barked out, “Strap yourselves in! One of the engines just died, so this landing isn’t going to be pretty.”

Corin was quick to obey, springing up from his seat and strapping the kid down. Once certain that the child would be safe, he hurried back to his own chair to buckle himself in. He barely managed to get himself settled before they entered the planet’s atmosphere. Jaw set and face twisted in a grimace, Corin’s fingers clutched the edge of his seat as the ship was tossed about. Flames licked furiously at the viewport, and a high whining sound could be heard.

The child let out a frightened squeak, and Corin ached to get up and comfort him. Instead, he settled for uttering soft assurances, hoping the kid would be able to hear him over all the noise. It seemed to work; he still looked scared, but he appeared to be focusing on Corin instead of the chaos all around. 

A grunt of effort could be heard from Din, and Corin whipped his head to the front just in time to see the ground rush up to meet them. Then, he knew no more.

``````````````````````````````````````

“Corin? Corin, come on. Wake up.”

A soft, far-off voice called to him, and he groaned and shifted where he sat. The voice continued, more insistent, and Corin pried his eyes open to meet the visor of his husband’s helmet. Din let out a little sigh of relief and leaned in for a quick keldabe kiss, before undoing the buckles and helping Corin stand up.

Once on his feet, Corin looked around to assess the damage. Other than a mess of objects strewn about the floor, nothing seemed to be amiss inside. Outside was where the real damage would be, he figured. Corin shook off the lingering dizziness from the crash and set about cleaning up the floor, while Din picked up the child and whispered softly in Mando’a to him, comforting the still frightened kid.

After the floor had been cleared and the kid settled, they made their way down to the hold. Corin sighed heavily when he saw the mess down here as well and moved to start on that before Din stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry about it right now,” He said. “We need to hurry and get to the nearest town before nightfall.”

Corin’s confusion must’ve been written on his face because, after a moment, Din muttered under his breath, “Were you even listening earlier when I told you about this planet?” Corin stared at him mutely, and the Mandalorian seemed to think that was answer enough judging by the world-weary sigh that escaped him. 

“Come on, I’ll explain as we go.” He said, an edge of fond exasperation to his voice. Corin nodded, and they started packing up what they would need to bring. As promised, Din explained while they worked.

“The days are long and hot on Xecarro,” He started. “And there won’t be any water between here and the closest town, so we need to make sure we bring enough for all three of us. I tried to get the ship as close to Eleygan as I could when we crashed, but we still have a long walk ahead of us.”

Dread further consumed Corin with every word his husband spoke, but he wasn’t done yet, unfortunately, “Nights here are even more dangerous than the days. There are many nocturnal predators, and we do not want to run into any of them if we can avoid it. We’ll have to move quickly.”

Of course. Of kriffing course. Not only did they have to crash on a disgustingly hot planet, but they had to crash far away from the nearest town, and they couldn’t even take their time with the journey lest they get caught out there at night. Corin tamped down the ever-increasing panic as best as he could and helped Din finish gathering their supplies.

All too soon, they had everything gathered, and Din opened the ramp. Corin followed him down, and the second he stepped foot outside he knew. He knew that this was not going to end well for him. It was just so kriffing hot. Maybe he should tell Din, after all. Corin could stay in the ship while Din went off to town. As soon as the thought occurred, though, he dismissed it; he couldn’t let Din think he was weak. He could do this. He would be fine.

Corin’s resolve now steeled, they went off on their way, the blazing sun of Xecarro bearing down on them mercilessly. Not even five minutes after they began their trek, Corin started to sweat, and he groaned miserably under his breath. This fast pace was going to kill him, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Din was right; they had to hurry.

They were quiet as they walked, and Corin wished that Din would say something, anything, to distract him from his unease. The sweating had already worsened, and things weren’t going to get any better. Slowly, an ache was starting to form in his legs, and his fear spiked. Maybe he should suggest a break. Corin knew that Din would let them stop for a few minutes if he just asked. He knew that his husband would understand if he explained the problem.

Corin looked at the back of the beskar helmet, squinting as it reflected the bright sunlight back at him. A bead of sweat traveled slowly down his neck, and he sighed as a small gust of wind sent a shiver down his spine. The coolness didn’t last long, however, before the heat of the desert consumed him once more. He opened his mouth to speak, to ask if they could relax for a moment, but he was cut off when Din spoke instead.

“Haar’chak,” He growled. “We aren’t moving fast enough. We need to pick up the pace.” Corin stopped in his tracks, and he felt despair course through him. Faster? Kriff, he didn’t think he could handle walking any faster than he already was. The pain in his legs had spread all the way up to his stomach, and his clothes were drenched with sweat. Din had a point, though. They had to keep going. With a sigh, he took a small sip of his water and hurried to catch up with Din.

As time went on, a dull throb grew in Corin’s head. The horizon far ahead of them blurred into a fuzzy line, and the dead trees they walked past every now and then looked like shadowy, looming figures. His throat was as dry as the desert around them, and every muscle in his body screamed in pure agony. He gagged softly when it felt like his stomach was trying to claw its way out of his mouth.

Corin stumbled a little, and distantly he noted that he was swaying. He looked up and chuckled quietly to himself at the sight of the shiny, squiggly figure that was in front of him. His giggling ceased abruptly when he saw that the shape was steadily getting smaller and smaller. Corin squinted in confusion; that didn’t seem right. That meant that the person was walking away. Weren’t they supposed to be walking together, though?

In a moment of startling clarity, Corin realized that he had stopped moving and was now just standing there while Din kept going. He felt his legs wobble, and anxiety consumed him like a ravenous beast. With a shaky voice, he called out to Din as loudly as he could. Luckily, Din heard him, and right as the Mandalorian turned around, Corin’s aching legs finally gave out on him, and he collapsed.

He must have blacked out for a moment because the next thing he knew, he was slung over Din’s shoulder and being carried over to one of the few trees dotting the otherwise barren landscape. Corin moaned when he was put down in the sparse shade, stomach roiling violently. The rancid taste of bile flooded his mouth, and he weakly shoved Din away before rolling onto his side and vomiting violently, cringing at the tainted taste of his breakfast. A gentle hand rubbed his back soothingly as he heaved and heaved, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

When at last his stomach was empty, he rolled away and shivered. A cough rattled its way out, and Corin winced at the further abuse to his throat. He blearily blinked up at the man hovering over him and realized that he was being spoken to.

“-an you hear me? Corin, are you listening?” Din’s words were so heavily laced with fear that Coirn longed to reach out to his husband and let him know that he was okay, but his limbs weren’t responding to his commands. Instead he managed a feeble nod, and he squeezed his eyes shut when that tiny movement caused his aching head to swim. He heard a strangled sigh of relief from Din and felt a bare hand brush over his forehead.

Din hissed in alarm, and Corin cracked his eyes open to see what the matter was. His husband’s shoulders had a stiff set to them. For a moment Corin feared that they were under attack, but everything clicked into place when Din muttered something about heat stroke under his breath. That must be why Corin felt so terrible. As if on cue, another wave of nausea crashed into him, and he whimpered pathetically. Kriff, this was a bad idea. He should’ve just told Din and asked to stay on the Razor Crest.

A careful hand cradled his head as a canteen was brought to his lips, and Corin sipped greedily at the water. Too soon for his liking, the water was taken away, and Din brushed his hand through Corin’s hair soothingly before settling down next to him.

“We’re going to take a little break, okay Corin?” He asked softly. “You’re going to get some rest, and once you’re feeling a bit better, we’ll head out again.”

As Din spoke, he lifted the child out of his harness and set him on the sand between them. He instantly waddled over to Corin and wrapped his little hand around one of Corin’s fingers, warbling worriedly. Corin felt his heart clench and readied himself to reassure the kid and Din both that he would take it easy for a bit, but then he remembered how dangerous Din had said the nights were here. If the kid got caught up in that just because Corin couldn’t handle a little heat, he would never forgive himself. He knew what had to do.

Forcing a brave smile onto his face, Corin croaked out, “Go on ahead.” Din’s head whipped around to look at him, and Corin imagined that the Mandalorian wore an incredulous look on his face to match the tone he spoke with. 

“What!?” He practically screeched. “No! I’m not leaving.”

Corin’s smile wavered at the particularly sharp stab of pain in his head caused by the high pitch Din’s voice had taken. At his side, the child chirped sadly. He tried to squeeze the tiny hand still holding his, but he just didn’t have the energy.

“Din, you have to go,” He continued, fighting his nausea with every word that left his mouth. “You need to think about this rationally.”

Din’s ungloved hand shot up to grasp the front of Corin’s shirt, clutching the fabric so hard that his knuckles turned white, and he whispered in a tortured voice, “I’m not leaving you behind, Corin. I swore to myself that I never would again.”

“I know you’ll come back,” Corin tried to reassure him. “You did before.”

His husband snarled angrily in response, but Corin could still hear the note of pain it held, “I don’t care! I can’t…” Din seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment. When he finally spoke again, he tilted his helmet down to meet Corin’s forehead, and despite the metal being uncomfortably warm from the sun, it still served to soothe Corin’s nerves.

“I can’t leave you out here on your own. Not like this.” Din’s voice sounded so broken, and Corin desperately wished that there was some other way. That he didn’t have to ask Din to leave him behind. But with how poorly Corin was feeling, they didn’t have much of a choice.

Corin spoke slowly and carefully, trying to emphasize the importance of what he was saying, “If I go with you, I’ll just slow you down. Who knows how long it’ll take to reach Eleygan? Think about the kid, cyar’ika.” Din froze at this, and he knew that he had said the right thing. 

“You can’t risk him being out here when the sun sets. You need to leave me here.” He hated using the child against Din, but he needed the Mandalorian to understand why Corin couldn’t go with them. Din hesitated, and the hand still holding Corin’s shirt twitched. A heavy sigh filtered through the helmet.

Din whimpered quietly, “But I-” 

“It’s okay.” Corin cut him off. Din had already wasted enough time; he needed to get moving. Corin rallied what little strength he had left and brought a hand up to rest against the side of Din’s neck. He felt him shudder at the contact.

“You can go to Eleygan, find a speeder bike, and come back for me.” He insisted. “I’ll be okay. Ni haat’mitir, ner kar’ta.” Another whimper followed those words, and Corin’s heart seized painfully.

At last, Din gave in, and he released Corin’s shirt in favor of pulling his husband into a gentle embrace, whispering softly in his ear, “I… Ni ori’kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyare.”

Corin smiled softly as his hand dropped, “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, balyc.”

With a great shuddering breath, Din pulled away and stood up in one swift movement. He bent down to pick up the kid and placed him back in the harness, and they both valiantly ignored his little cries of distress at being separated from Corin. Din sorted through the provisions they had brought, leaving most of the water behind. Corin would’ve protested, said that Din and the kid would need them more, but he found he didn’t even have the energy to talk anymore.

When Din could put it off no longer, he looked back at Corin one last time before he started walking away. Corin knew he should be happy that Din had listened to him, but he couldn’t help the fear that took hold of him at the thought of having to suffer through this alone. It seemed that fear was unnecessary, however, and that good luck was finally on his side, for not long after the Mandalorian disappeared from view, Corin’s world went black.

~~

He should go back. He should turn around and go back to where he left Corin. His beautiful, wonderful, amazing riduur. Din shouldn’t have left him behind. This was a mistake. He needed to turn around now, before it was too late. He couldn’t let Corin suffer through this alone. He just couldn’t. What kind of Mandalorian would he be if he left his aliit to fend for himself like this? With that, Din turned around sharply and made his way back. He needed to hurry if he wanted to get back to his cyare before nightfall.

Din stopped in his tracks. Nightfall. If Corin was out here in his current condition when the sun set, he wouldn’t stand a chance. At this point, Din was closer to Eleygan than the tree he had left his kar’ta under. If he backtracked now, he would definitely be too late. No, he should keep going. He should pick up the pace. The faster he got to town, the faster he could get back to Corin. The faster he could get Corin to a medic. He turned around again and set off towards the town at an even faster walk. The child made an unimpressed noise from where he sat in his harness.

Din reached up a hand to softly rub the ad’ika’s head and muttered, “I know, I know. I swear I’ve made up my mind this time.” The kid scoffed quietly in disbelief, and Din sighed.

``````````````````````````````````````

Eleygan was a small town, the few dozen buildings comprising it all huddled together. There were a few moisture farms nearby, and there was a cantina and a large patch of sand that was considered a landing field for the few people who visited, but other than that it wasn’t much to look at. It was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone, and they tended to keep to themselves. The people of the town never saw much excitement. So, when a Mandalorian warrior covered in shining beskar armor and wearing a small, green child on his chest was spotted approaching the town, many heads were turned. 

The people living there had, of course, heard tales of the mighty strength of the Mandalorians, and they knew that if one was coming here, it could only mean trouble. Word spread like wildfire of the warrior’s impending arrival, and the people hurried off to hide in their homes. Windows were barred, doors were locked, and they prayed that whoever this stranger was would leave them alone.

This was why, when he finally entered Eleygan, Din was met with a ghost town instead of the quietly bustling oasis it was supposed to be. He turned his head side to side, looking for any sign of life. There had to be someone here; it couldn’t be abandoned. His kar’ta would die if the town was abandoned. He couldn’t lose Corin. It would destroy him. He’d have to carry on for the child, but without his riduur by his side he would be so lost.

Din forced himself to stop and take a calming breath. He had to focus. Corin wouldn’t get the help he so desperately needed if Din was too busy panicking to seek it out. So, he examined his surroundings once more, and this time he was able to see the telltale signs of a hasty retreat all around him. Overturned crates here, scattered objects there. A child’s toy half covered in sand, likely forgotten in the rush. These people had seen or heard something that had made them swiftly hide away, and Din was willing to bet his ship that it was him.

A weary sigh escaped him, and the kid looked up at his visor, curiosity shining in his large, dark eyes. Din gently rubbed one of his ad’ika’s ears while contemplating what his next move should be. It seemed the people here had heard tales of the Mandalorians, and seeing one coming to their little town had caused them to panic. While Din couldn’t say he was surprised, he was disheartened and frustrated. How was he supposed to get Corin help if everyone here was too scared to even leave their homes?

A plan formed in his mind, and Din headed towards the nearest building. He would just go to them if they wouldn’t come out, and maybe with the kid strapped to his chest he would seem less ominous, less threatening. More humanized. He could only hope. He approached the first door and raised his hand to knock as gently as he could. A few moments passed before the door cracked open, and he could see a pair of shining eyes peeking through the gap.

Din opened his mouth to speak, but before any words could get out a frightened whimper sounded from whoever was standing before him, and the door was slammed shut. He sighed softly and tried again at the neighboring house, only to be met with similar results. No one even came to the door at the third and fourth house, the inhabitants ignoring him completely. 

A few more houses later with no one willing to give him the time of day, Din felt like he was going to scream. What was wrong with these people? Why wouldn’t they let him speak? If he could just tell them why he was here, they would see that they had no reason to fear him. All he wanted was to get Corin the help he needed. Without a medic, his cyar’ika would die. The sun would be setting in a couple hours, and he didn’t even have a speeder bike to get back to him. He was running out of kriffing time!

A soft coo brought Din back to the present. The ad’ika looked at him with sad eyes, but he seemed to radiate reassurance. Right. Of course. Din couldn’t give up now. He had to keep trying. Corin’s life depended on it. He reigned in his thoughts yet again and continued to knock on the door of every house. No matter how many houses he tried, the closest he ever got to being able to actually ask for help was one house where the inhabitant hadn’t been paying attention when she opened the door. Once she saw that it was the Mandalorian who had knocked, however, she was quick to close the door on his face.

Din glanced at the sky to check the position of the sun, and his blood ran cold when he saw that it was beginning to set. He had already gone through every building in Eleygan, and he had even gone through a second time on the slight chance that maybe someone would listen to him if he showed that he wasn’t going to give up. No one had listened, no one had even tried. He had been rejected at every single door. He had failed. His kar’ta was going to die all alone out in the middle of the desert, and it was his fault.

Out of the corner of his peripheral, Din spotted a building he hadn’t noticed before, sitting separated from the rest of the town. He saw movement from one of the windows, and before he could even register what he was doing, he was sprinting. As he approached, the door swung open, and a squat, old man stood there, face twisted in fury and hands on his hips.

Just as Din screeched to a halt, the man started yelling, voice full of righteous anger, “How dare you? How dare you come here and disrupt our peace? What gives you the right to barge in and mercilessly antagonize these innocent people? We have done nothing wrong! We are but simple folk, minding our own business. If you know what’s best for you, you’ll leave before you anger any of these poor people to the point of retaliation.”

Din paused in complete shock for a moment, before his own anger flared, “How dare I? All I have done is look for help! I haven’t come here to cause any trouble. I just need-”

“Enough!” The old man cut him off. “I don’t want to hear any of your excuses, Mandalorian.” The last word was spat out, as if intended to be an insult, and any other time this would’ve enraged Din further. All he could feel right now, though, was despair. This was the first person he had come across that was actually speaking to him, but he still wasn’t listening. There had to be some way to convince him to help. An idea flitted through his mind, and while the very thought made his stubborn pride cringe, he knew there might not be another way.

Carefully so as not to jostle the child too much, Din dropped to his knees and bowed his head. The man before him audibly gasped at the sight, and he heard someone else inside the house exclaim a startled, “oh my!” Ignoring that, he focused on the worry and fear that were consuming him, channeling them into his words.

Head still bowed and voice trembling with raw emotion, Din begged, “Please. I need your help. My riduur-my husband, he’s… He’s dying. He has heat stroke, and it’s bad. I had to leave him out in the desert, and now the sun is going down. He won’t stand a chance out there; he can’t defend himself right now. I left him. I left him all on his own, and now he’s going to die because I wasn’t strong enough to save him. Please, you have to save him. I’ll do anything. I just… I can’t lose him.”

The sound of soft footsteps approached as he finished, and a gentle hand on his shoulder startled him. He lifted his head and was surprised to see not the old man who had been yelling, but a small woman who looked to be in her late thirties. She flashed him a comforting smile before she turned and glared at the man with apparent outrage.

“Papa, how could you?” She exclaimed, sounding as if someone had just insulted her. “I told you that this poor man was acting too desperately to be doing anything other than looking for help! But you didn’t listen, no. You were just so sure that he was here to cause trouble. Shame on you!”

Then, she turned back to Din and spoke in a much softer voice, “I’m so sorry that everyone here is too stubborn and oblivious to notice when there’s a man in need. We’ll help you and your husband. Don’t you worry, sweetie.” She crouched down and gently patted the kid on the head.

“Hey there, little guy,” She murmured. “We’re gonna take real good care of both your dads, okay?” The child chirped gleefully in response, and Din allowed a soft smile to tug at the corners of his lips.

“Thank you.” He said, sincerity bleeding through his words.

The woman smiled warmly and said, “Don’t mention it, sugar. My name’s Menka Saretti, and that old grump over there is my father, Duvnar. We’re the resident medics of Eleygan.” Din almost laughed at the irony; of course, the house that he had nearly overlooked was the healers’ home. If he had just been more observant…

No, he couldn’t think like that. He had found the help he needed, and that’s what mattered. Din stood up with a stagger, and Menka led the way inside, brushing past her father who was still scowling at him with disdain. Once in the main room of the little building, Din set the kid on the ground and let him roam freely, keeping an eye on him as he explained what had happened back in the desert. 

“So, I need to find a speeder bike and go get him before it gets any darker.” He finished, silently hoping that these people had one he could borrow. He didn’t want to waste time trying to find one.

Duvnar started to speak, a scowl still firmly in place, but his daughter cut him off, “We have one out back that you could use. It’s one of the newer models, so it’s pretty fast. If you leave now, you should be able to get to him in time.” Menka received a dirty glare from Duvnar, to which she replied with a cheeky smile. 

Din thanked her again, then hurried over to the back door before he stopped short. He turned back to look at his ad’ika, who was currently inspecting the furniture in the room with avid interest. Silently, he debated how good of an idea it would be to leave him here with these people. He doubted that they would hurt the child, but one could never be too safe. It would almost certainly be too dangerous to bring him along, though. 

Menka seemed to read his mind and chuckled softly, “Go on, sweetie. I’ll keep an eye on your son for you while you’re gone. He’s in good hands, I assure you.” Din hesitated for a moment longer, then nodded sharply and dashed out of the house. He hopped on the speeder bike and set off for where he had left his riduur, the sun at his back sinking below the horizon.

``````````````````````````````````````

While Menka had been right when she said that the bike was fast, it wasn’t nearly fast enough. The sun had well and truly set now, and Din still had a little way to go before he reached his riduur. As he raced across the darkened desert, he saw glimmering eyes out of his peripheral. A large pack of creatures, indistinguishable from their surroundings but for their shining crimson eyes and the occasional flash of dagger-like teeth, were moving swiftly off to the west.

Thankfully, they were heading in the opposite direction as Din, but still he feared what the sight of them meant. The numerous nocturnal predators of Xecarro were starting to come out to hunt, which meant Corin was in even more danger now. Unbridled panic built in Din and threatened to consume him as he imagined similar beasts ripping into his kar’ta’s defenseless form. He pushed the speeder bike faster, ignoring the risks of traveling at such a speed. He needed to get to Corin. He couldn’t let himself be too late.

A few more minutes passed, the bike shuddering and groaning beneath him. A distant part of Din screamed at him to slow down, even just a little bit, lest the bike shake itself apart and leave him stranded out here with no transportation, but rational thought had abandoned him. All he could register was the desperate need to reach his riduur and protect him. He was so close now. If Din could just get to Corin, it would hopefully reduce the risk of being attacked by the many creatures looking to eat, and he could take it a little slower on the way back.

Din spotted a shadowy figure underneath a tree up ahead, and his heart jumped. Corin. He had finally reached him. He brought the bike to a halt, it screeching as the inner workings ground against each other violently, and he vaulted off. Fear clawed at his mind when he noticed that his riduur was as still as death. With trembling hands, Din ripped one glove off and rested his fingers on the side of Corin’s neck. A hysterical laugh bubbled up when he felt the rapid, thready pulse, and he thanked the stars that he wasn’t too late. He leant in for a brief kov’nyn before moving to gather Corin in his arms.

He stopped short, however, when he heard a loud, vicious growl behind him. Din whipped around and reached for the blaster on his hip, drawing it and taking aim. He was too slow to get off a shot before a shaggy creature leapt at him, clamping its jaws around his right arm. The impact was strong and sudden enough to knock the blaster out of his hand, and although the beskar vambrace protected him from most of the beast’s teeth, a few still managed to sink into the flesh that was unprotected. Din grimaced and managed to land a solid punch with his left hand, hoping to stun the animal into releasing him.

Unfortunately, all that served to do was anger the beast, who clenched its jaw harder and scratched at Din’s helmet with the claws of one heavy paw. A cry of pain escaped him, unbidden, and two more growls sounded from either side. Din sighed wearily; he should’ve expected that there wouldn’t be just one creature to fight off. Face set in a scowl, Din crouched down and reached under the creature with his left arm. He fumbled blindly until he felt the top of his right boot, and he walked his fingers across his calf until they brushed against the hilt of his vibroblade.

Din managed to get ahold of it and awkwardly tugged the blade out of its sheath. He deftly flipped it so that it was facing upwards and plunged it into the animal’s vulnerable underside. Warm blood sprayed onto his bare hand as he pulled out and stabbed the beast again. The creature released his arm, letting out an agonized howl, and he twisted hard. It jerked away, swaying where it stood before it collapsed onto its side with a final, raspy exhale. Ignoring the pain in his arm, Din quickly picked his blaster up from the ground and shot the creature on his left. A snarling whimper escaped it, and it backed up cautiously.

It started to pace in front of Din, growling and measuring him with its squinting blood-red eyes. He caught movement to his right and let out a growl of his own when he saw the third animal trying to creep behind him to get to Corin. Swiveling his right arm to aim the blaster on the beast who dared to target his riduur, Din swung his rifle off his back with his left hand and pointed it at the still pacing beast in front of him. He fired both simultaneously, and the creature before him disintegrated just as the one to his right stumbled and fell to the ground.

Feeble whimpers sounded from it, and Din shot it again, silencing it. He hastily scanned his surroundings, checking to see if there were any more of the things lurking around. When he saw nothing, his shoulders slumped in relief, and he holstered his weapons. He approached the first creature and yanked his vibroblade out, wiping the blood off on the animal’s fur before putting that back, too. Turning back to face Corin, he realized that the other man had not stirred once throughout the fight. 

Din worried his bottom lip between his teeth as the adrenaline faded and the panic from earlier replaced it. That had not been a quiet struggle by any means, and it would’ve woken even the deepest of sleepers, which Corin was definitely not. He wiped his still bloody hand off on his pants before kneeling next to his cyar’ika again. Din rested his hand on his husband’s forehead and recoiled in shock at how much hotter it was than earlier that day. Not allowing himself the luxury of giving it more than a passing thought, he scooped Corin into his arms and set him on the bike.

He cast a fleeting glance at the provisions still sitting under the tree. It went against his training to leave any of it behind, but he had no time to waste. Corin needed help, and he needed it now. With a frustrated sigh, Din sat on the speeder bike, wincing when it groaned under the additional weight. He would have to be careful not to push too hard on the way back. The last thing Din needed now was to have to carry his kar’ta to Eleygan; it would not be ideal considering how far away they were and Corin’s deteriorating condition.

Carefully, he started the bike and headed towards town at a considerably slower pace. The journey was mostly uneventful, Din only spotting the occasional creature off to the sides. A few ran up beside them, but quickly decided that they either didn’t look very appetizing, or just weren’t worth the effort. Every few minutes, he checked Corin’s pulse, needing to remind himself that there was still a chance to save him. He had to tell himself that he hadn’t been too late, or he would fall apart here and now.

Instead of calming him down as was intended, however, Din was only causing himself further despair by continuously checking. Corin was growing steadily worse, his pulse weakening and his body radiating so much heat that it felt like it was burning Din through his gloves. He wasn’t going to make it. He had been too slow, and now his cyare was going to die. Din couldn’t let that happen. Against his better judgement, he sped up again.

A little while later, Eleygan was in sight, and Din released a shaky breath. They were almost there. Just a little bit further, and his riduur would get the care he needed. The bike screamed beneath him in vehement protest, but still he pushed harder. He couldn’t back off now, not when they were so close to Corin’s salvation. Suddenly, the speeder bike swerved and wobbled precariously before just dropping out of the air.

Din and Corin were thrown off by the abrupt halt, but he was able to get his arms around Corin’s waist and twist around to land underneath him, cushioning his fall. The force of the impact pushed all the air from Din’s lungs, and he gasped, struggling to pull a breath in. Once he could breathe again, he gently rolled his cyar’ika onto the ground beside him and staggered upright, swaying slightly. A quick look around confirmed that they were still alone, and Din dropped back down to check on Corin.

Nothing seemed to have been injured in the fall, but Corin’s health was still swiftly declining. Din turned his head to look at the bike and felt yet another wave of despair crash into him. The speeder bike lay on the ground, pieces of it strewn about as if it were a broken toy that some child had cast aside without a second thought. Even if it weren’t in pieces, though, Din doubted that they would’ve gotten very far on it. 

He cursed softly under his breath. If Corin had been awake, he was certain that he would’ve blamed this on bad luck. Din took a second to stamp down his ever-increasing panic before he gathered his riduur’s prone form in his arms and stood back up. Din would just have to carry him, then. This wouldn’t be a problem. As long as he moved as quickly as he could, everything would be okay. He wouldn’t allow himself to think otherwise.

The remainder of the journey was agonizing; Din just couldn’t seem to move fast enough. He was tired and sore, and he was weighed down by his cyare’s limp body, but even so, he should’ve been able to manage more than his current staggering pace. He was a Mandalorian for kriff’s sake, he was supposed to be better than this. His riduur was counting on him, and Din would die before he let him down.

With that thought in mind, Din quickened his pace, mulishly ignoring the burning in his legs and chest and the ache in his body from the day’s challenges. The pain he felt now would be nothing compared to the pain of losing Corin if he ended up being too slow. Every step brought them closer to the help he so desperately needed. He had to keep going.

After what felt like an eternity later, Din was finally walking through the darkened streets of Eleygan once again. All he had to do now was get his kar’ta to Duvnar and Menka, and everything would be okay. Din pushed himself to a jog, relief flooding through him when he rounded a corner and saw the healers’ home. He had done it; Corin was going to be fine. Breaths heaving out of him, Din stumbled to a stop just short of the door and opened his mouth to call out for someone to open it.

Menka beat him to the punch, however, and the door swung open. She hastily ushered Din inside and guided him to a room in the back of the building where her father was standing by a bed, surrounded by supplies. Din gently deposited Corin onto the bed, then was abruptly pushed to the side as Menka forced her way past him. Had this been any other day, he would’ve been annoyed at being shoved around, but right now all he cared about was his riduur.

As much as every fiber of his being ached to be by his cyare’s side, Din knew he had to step back and let the medics do their job. He watched silently, worry warring with fatigue, as they stripped Corin of his clothing. Together, Duvnar and Menka lifted him off of the bed and into the large basin sitting nearby, filled with what Din assumed to be cold water. Duvnar held Corin’s head above the water and started wiping the sweat from his face with a wet cloth.

Hating how useless he felt just standing there, Din took a step forward, only for Menka to block his path, “There’s nothing else you can do for him, darling. My father will take good care of him. Why don’t you head on over to the other room and relax a bit?”

Din hesitated, torn between never wanting to let Corin out of his sight again and the soul-deep exhaustion plaguing him. Menka smiled knowingly at him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. It suddenly struck him that this woman had not once shown any sign of intimidation in his presence. People across the galaxy knew of the Mandalorians’ fearsome reputation, and most were terrified to just be in the same room as one. Stars, the entire town had hidden away when he showed up.

But not her. This petite medic had given him nothing but warm smiles and reassurances. She’d even been brave enough to touch him, something not many dared to do. Din recalled her earlier words to her father; was it his obvious distress during his frenetic search for someone to help that caused her to feel no fear? Whatever it was, he was grateful. If it weren’t for her, his riduur would have surely been dead by now.

Still smiling, Menka spoke again, her quiet words bringing him back to the present, “I promise you, he’s in good hands.” She looked at his right arm pointedly, having noticed the blood there at some point. “You’re tired, and you’re injured. Let’s leave my father to it and take care of those wounds, okay?”

“But I-”

“Your son has been waiting for you.” She butted in. The hand on his shoulder pressed down more firmly, causing his upper body to turn slightly. “Don’t you want to go let him know that everything’s gonna be fine?”

That was what finally convinced Din to leave the room. Duvnar was looking after Corin, but Din needed to look after the ad’ika now. He turned around, and with a final glance over his shoulder at his kar’ta, he walked to where the child was waiting, Menka right on his heel. A squeal of delight greeted him, and a smile tugged at his lips. Din crouched down just as his son barreled into him, and he gently picked him up. The kid grabbed his helmet with his little hands and pressed his forehead to it.

Menka chuckled softly at the sight before guiding Din over to a nearby chair. She pulled out a medkit, and Din set the child on his lap in order to free his hands. He took off his right vambrace and hissed as he rolled his sleeve up past the bite mark. The kid furrowed his brow and reached a hand up, but Din was quick to intercept. The last thing he needed right now was to let this healer see what the ad’ika could do.

A few minutes later, Din’s injuries were patched up, and he was getting back to his feet. He made a beeline for the room Corin was in, the kid in tow, but the sound of a throat being cleared halted him. He looked to see Menka standing with her hands on her hips, glaring up at him. 

“Now just where do you think you’re going?” She asked, voice stern. Din started to gesture in the direction of Corin, but Menka scoffed lightly, and he froze. “I’m not an idiot; I know where. It was a rhetorical question.”

Then, she raised one eyebrow and pointed to a different room, “Where you should be going is that room right there, so that you can get some shut-eye. You gotta take care of yourself.”

Sighing in exasperation, Din grumbled, “I’ll be fine. I need to be by his side.”

Menka’s other eyebrow joined the first, and Din suddenly felt like he was a child being scolded, “And just what, pray tell, are you going to do? Sit there and stare him into waking up? There’s nothing more you can do for him, right now. You just gotta give him the time to heal. Meanwhile, you need to be taking care of yourself. You wouldn’t want him to wake up to a husband dead on his feet, now would you?”

Loathe as he was to admit it, Menka had a point. Din had gotten Corin here, and now all that was left to do was wait. His job was done. The enormity of his weariness slammed into him, and he swayed slightly where he stood. Despite how ready he felt to lie down and take a nap, the fear that had been coursing through him for the better part of the day refused to release its hold.

Menka seemed to sense this, and she sighed, her tone softening, “Alright, you can go check up on him. I’m sure it would do your son some good to see him, too.” Then, her tone regained its former steel, brooking no argument. “After that, though, I’m placing your armored butt on bedrest for the rest of the day.”

Din found himself nodding as he hurried into his cyare’s room. Duvnar looked up at him as he entered, distaste still as clear as day on his face, before turning his attention back to Corin. The man had been moved from the tub and back onto the bed, and cooling packs were being placed around his body. Din noted with relief that he didn’t look as awful as he had when he had brought him in. Seeing the improvement assuaged his worry somewhat, cementing in Din’s brain that things really were going to be okay now.

He allowed himself to revel in the relief for just a moment longer before he begrudgingly left the room and staggered over to the one Menka had pointed out. He stopped in the doorway, however, and turned to face the woman who was now bustling away in the kitchen.

“Hey,” He called out quietly, and Menka grunted in acknowledgement, not glancing away from the vegetable she was cutting. “Will you wake me if there’s any change?”

She stopped what she was doing and looked at him, a smile on her face, “Of course I will. Now go get some rest. I’ll let you know when the food is ready.”

Din tipped his helmet in her direction and spoke with all the sincerity he could muster, “Vor entye.” Even though Menka wouldn’t understand what the words themselves meant, he knew the sentiment was obvious enough from his tone. 

Sure enough, Menka’s smile widened, and she turned back to the meal she had been preparing, “You’re very welcome.”

With that, Din entered the room and shut the door behind him. He placed the ad’ika on the floor and stumbled over to the bed, collapsing onto his back on the mattress. His son climbed up next to him and snuggled into his side, chirping sleepily. Din took off his gloves, placing them on the bedside table, before he ran his fingers gently over the kid’s head. 

Even though he had seen for himself that Corin was already getting better, he couldn’t help but worry. How close had he gotten to losing his riduur forever? How many hours, minutes, seconds away had Corin been from death? Would one of the nocturnal beasts have gotten to him, or would the heat stroke have killed him first? And why had Corin reacted so badly to the heat, anyway?

Din shook his head in an effort to clear his thoughts. He couldn’t let himself think like that. What’s done was done, and no one could change the past. Corin would be okay, and that was all that mattered; he shouldn’t dwell on the what-ifs. As for his cyare’s problem with the heat, Din could ask him about it once he was feeling better. He could theorize all he wanted, but until Corin woke up there was no point in fretting over the answer.

A weary sigh escaped him, and the ad’ika cooed in his sleep. They were safe. His aliit was safe. Din could rest now, knowing that he had done his duty and protected them to the best of his ability. His eyelids drooped, and he was too exhausted to bother fighting it. Din’s over-tired body finally relaxed as a deep, dreamless sleep pulled him under.

``````````````````````````````````````

Three days. It had been three days since Din had brought Corin to the medics’ home in Eleygan. Three kriffing days of non-stop worrying. Duvnar said had that it wasn’t abnormal for Corin to still be asleep considering how dire his condition had been, but that didn’t prevent Din from being concerned. What if he never woke up? What if he never got to see his riduur’s beautiful blue eyes or his devastatingly charming smile ever again?

Din stood up from the chair he had been inhabiting for the last several hours and paced the room in the slowly dying sunlight. Corin would be okay. He had to be. Everything would be fine. He thought to the child, currently sleeping in what had been dubbed as Din’s room. The ad’ika seemed totally unconcerned, if not a little bit sad that his buir had yet to awaken. If the kid wasn’t worried, Din shouldn’t be either.

He just couldn’t help himself, though. Corin was his everything; Din would be lost without him. He had been so sure that he had saved his riduur in time, but what if he hadn’t? What if he had failed at protecting the single most important man in his life? How would he recover? How would he find the strength to move on, knowing that he had done all he could and it still wasn’t enough?

A frustrated growl rumbled out, and he stopped in his tracks. Those kinds of thoughts would do him no good. He needed to get a hold of himself. Corin would be fine. All Din needed to do was wait. His cyare would wake up soon, and everything would be okay. He had to have faith. Corin was strong, impossibly so; he wouldn’t let something like heat stroke get the better of him.

Din roughly plopped himself back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest, concentrating on keeping his breaths deep and even. He had been on the verge of panic for the past three days, and he refused to let himself succumb to it. He would sit here and wait for his kar’ta to come back to him, no matter how long it took. 

As he intently watched Corin’s face for any sign of waking, sleep crept up on him. He tried to shake it off, but to no avail; the stress had completely and utterly worn him out. He wanted to be awake when Corin opened his gorgeous eyes, but the pull of sleep was just too strong. Unable to resist any longer, he finally fell into an uneasy slumber at his cyar’ika’s side.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> Nadalir’la- warming  
> Haar’chak- Damn it  
> Ni haat’mitir, ner kar’ta.- I promise, my heart.  
> Ni ori’kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyare.- I love you so much, my beloved.  
> Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, balyc.- I love you, too.  
> Kov’nyn- keldabe kiss  
> Vor entye.- Thank you. (lit. I accept a debt)  
> Buir- parent
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
